Happy Father’s Day! I’ve, of course, been thinking of my dad today. Thank you for making an eternal difference in my life, Dad. It’s Father’s Day, so here’s to you.

Wisdom is justified by her children.
Luke 7:37

If there is anything at all praiseworthy in my life, I owe it to my parents and their determination to live lives fully yielded to the Lordship of Jesus. 

Dad, you have many attributes that impact me and serve me as I grow into who God has called me to be. This morning as I think of you and miss you, these attributes in particular stand out: 

Servant to others. Growing up, you lived by this phrase that you kept on a little plaque on your office desk: “The needs of others outweigh the needs of one’s own self.” As a child, and especially as a teenage girl, it was sometimes hard to believe that anything could be more important than what I wanted or what I needed. (Such is the problem of immaturity!) Thankfully, I had you in my life to consistently remind me that as a Christ-follower, our world simply doesn’t revolve around our own selves, and that abundant life is found in laying down our lives for others around us. Day to day, you were an example of this by asking, “Anything I can get you, Stacie?” and allowing yourself to be inconvenienced in meeting the needs others—whether a small need like giving someone a ride, or a big one, like giving someone that blue van you used to drive.

Cheerful giver. What was most impacting is not that you gave and served others, but you found and expressed joy and delight in giving. You somehow got Jesus’ words that it is “better to give than to receive” (Acts 20:35). There are many reasons God loves you but one is definitely that you are a cheerful giver (2 Corinthians 9:7).

You also enabled me to experience the joy of giving. When I was little girl, you would give me money to put in the church offering. Then you helped me find an income and taught me to give to God what was God’s.

Because you were wise with money, a hard worker, and a big giver, I never feared lack. Even if you feared it at times, I never had to. . . so I started sponsoring a child with World Vision and giving to missions and tithing and saving for my own missions trips. I figured if I gave too much, I could always go ask you for more. To me, you were a source of generosity that never ran dry. 

Pursuer of relationships. From my childhood and even through the rocky waters of my teenage years, you always made it known to me that you loved spending time with me. I can remember you would regularly ask to take me places or go hiking or anything that involved time together. At 14 years old (and 15, 16, 17), I was less than enthusiastic about any of that, but I will never forget your pursuit.

Growing up in your house, you’d always get excited when you saw me. You’d throw your arms up in the air and exclaim “Stacie!!!” (the same went for the rest of our family: “Bonnie!” or “Susie!”), like the greatest thing in the world just happened when one of your ladies walked in the room. I could feel your joy in me—in all of us. I could feel your delight, and this laid the foundation for my relationship with my heavenly father. He doesn’t tolerate me; he, too, delights in me. He doesn’t endure me; he joyfully pursues me and celebrates our relationship. 

Humility. By example you taught me how to apologise. And not just a general apology that you can slap onto any mistake, but how to humble oneself and give a heartfelt recognition of one’s shortcomings—how to own one’s humanity and failures and reconcile with another.

You used to ask each of us, “What can I be working on?” My teenage self would shrug off the question, probably roll my eyes, and respond with the typical kid response of “I don’t know. Nothing.” Nevertheless, i learnt to seek feedback, to have a growth mindset, and how to right my wrongs with others from your example.

Love and honour always. My whole life, you and Mom have served your local church. Your line of work even enabled you to serve with your business every and now then, too. There were opportunities for offence, reasons to bad-mouth, to fight back at times, to defend oneself and severe relational ties, but I never remember you and Mom talking negative about anyone in church leadership or ministry—never.

Instead, I remember you saying, (I could hear the fear of the Lord in your voice whenever you quoted this): “Touch not my anointed: do my prophets no harm” (1 Chronicles 16:22). Your example in this has delivered me many times from the trap of offence, and assured me that God can take care of his own. Your example taught me that if we take the low road of humility and stick with honour, God will mend and defend what we can’t. 

Take risks. You told me often, “I always like to think there’s possibilities,” and, “It never hurts to ask.” 

Work hard. When you weren't engaged with people (people always took priority over tasks), you were working on something—creating, building, planting, fixing. Even now days, your time always seems intentionally spent, as if you decide where you invest each moment. 

Play hard. You always used your vacation days (and then some!), because you had the conviction that to make memories with the ones you love is aways worth the time, energy, and money. You taught me Sabbath rest. There’s a time to work and a time to play. 

Attitude. You used to sing this funny song, especially when your ladies were cranky: “A new attitude! It’s the first place to start!” You taught me that attitude can take one further than a degree or even talent. As a teenager, my attitude was consistently below average, and you consistently forged it into the kind, respectful person you knew I was called to be.

Self control. You lived in a house with three females. Somedays, I had enough sass and attitude to last a lifetime. Yet, I never remember you flying off the handle. Susie and I knew when your face would turn red and your nostrils would flare that we had crossed a line, that you would call “foul," but we never feared you losing it. You disciplined us because you loved us, and we were blessed to be able to feel and trust your love, even in discipline. You could see who we were called to be even when we couldn’t.

Habits. Bible study, prayer, gratitude, manners, church attendance . . . some things need to be as consistent as breathing for one to flourish in life. 

And one more attribute (not sure what word best embodies this). As a teenage girl, the lie of the day was that I had to look like Barbie to be beautiful. You said it loud so I could hear, and you said it often so I wouldn't forget: “Stacie, I think you’re beautiful.” “You like nice, Stacie.” “I like your hair, Stacie.” “You’re beautiful inside and out.” “You’re eyes look especially beautiful today.” “OH!! A nose-ring! Now that’s a new look!” 

I had a list of attributes for my husband-to-be. I finally summed it all up in this one thing: someone like my dad. I prayed that the Lord would let me marry a man as good as my dad. (Thankfully, God heard and answered me. Many of these attributes sum up my husband, Joe, too.)

Today, I pray for more in the world like you, Dad.